


My Hero

by Janice_Lester



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Costumes, Gen, Slash Goggles, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach's friends throw him a birthday party.  With live entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a postage stamp for my 2012 [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card, to hit the kinks 'exposure/exhibitionism', 'uniforms/military kink', 'bondage (other)' and 'dressup'. Depending on your slash goggles prescription, you may see various combinations of Zach/Chris/Karl. Or not. Beta'd by [](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/profile)[vee_dub](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/).

Zach isn’t sure what he’s done to deserve this level of natal celebratory exuberance, but he humbly hopes to continue deserving it. Today he is thirty-five years old, which he’s sure his teenage self would have considered _ancient_ , and he’s surrounded by friends. People flew in specially from all over the country. Someone hired this hall, someone else made things happen—it wasn’t a surprise party or anything, but it’s glorious that he never had to lift a finger. He sips his wine, chitchats, nibbles an hors d’oeuvre he suspects Pine may have had a hand in making, and simply basks in being the centre of attention.

Until he isn’t.

Something is happening up on the low stage, but all he can really see is an array of people’s backs. He elbows Zoe, lifts his painted-on eyebrows. She shakes her head, smiling. “Wait and see.”

Ah, his suspicion is confirmed. She is in on it. Whatever it is.

Someone taps the microphone. It’s Simon Pegg, wearing a Spock t-shirt Zach feels sure is bootlegged, since he doesn’t remember being shown that particular image at any of the merchandise briefings. “Ladies and gents and suave bloody birthday boys, if we could have your attention, please. Ta. Messrs Pine and Urban wish to entertain us, in honour of this great occasion, with a theatrical tour de force. And who knows, they might even manage it! Enjoy.” He bows low, then beckons the miscellaneous others off the stage.

Which leaves Karl-Heinz Urban, in a red gingham dress, tied to a pole by a thick rope looped a ridiculous number of times around his torso. He has pigtails. Blonde ones. And a bonnet that matches his dress. The whole look suits him surprisingly well. “Help!” he cries. “Oh, won’t someone please rescue me before the evil villain returns to defile my virtue?”

If that line wasn’t funny enough, the fact that Karl starts it serious and is on the verge of cracking up by the end of it would have done the trick. Everyone laughs. Zoe slips her arm around Zach, gives him a squeeze. He kisses the top of her head, looks back up when Pine calls “Hello? Ma’am? Are you all right?”

And then there he is. Chris Pine. Striding in cocky and calm and dressed as a navy officer, his well-fitted white jacket done up to the neck (lookin’ good there, Pine!).

“Oh, thank the Lord!” cries Urban’s damsel in distress. “My hero!”

“The man who did this to you, is he here?” Pine asks, checking corners and shadows like a pro, water pistol at the ready.

“He went to meet an acquaintance, a most unsavoury character! I’m sure nothing godly will come of it! Oh, please won’t you free me, gallant stranger, before he comes back?”

“Yes, ma’am, of course I will.” He holsters his plastic weapon, crosses the stage, and starts manfully pulling at the knots.

It seems to take a good deal longer than expected, but the laughter is good-natured and Karl rolls his eyes and it’s just adorable.

The instant she’s released, Urban’s character swoons right into Pine’s arms. Pine almost fumbles the catch, but they cover well. They definitely have a future in pantomime, if they want it. And are prepared to move to the UK, of course.

“My hero,” says the damsel again, straightening, looking besottedly into the famous blue eyes and placing a (hairy) hand over her heart.

The sound system produces a ridiculous orchestral romance motif from some 50s movie or other. Karl grabs Chris tightly around the waist, and then they (not quite) lock lips in what has to be the most hilariously fake passionate kiss Zach’s seen since his high school drama days. Pine’s hat gets knocked askew. People _ooh_ and _ah_ and _awww_.

The couple turn their heads, face the audience. Smile. People begin to applaud.

The music changes, becomes something modern, raunchy, with a slow dance beat. Beyonce. She needs a soldier.

Someone wolf-whistles.

The clinch breaks apart, and dancing ensues. Awkward, asynchronous, insufficiently rehearsed, wonderful dancing. Zach’s just about to let Zoe know how delightful he’s finding this when Chris rips open his costume jacket.

Which was apparently held together with velcro.

And not concealing a regulation shirt. Or indeed any shirt.

Oh. Oh, wow.

Karl Urban tosses his frilly hat out into the audience and starts trying to unzip his dress while continuing to bounce about more or less to the beat. He eventually succeeds in escaping the dress and continues to flail about, now dressed only in a red gingham bikini top and Calvin Klein boxer briefs that are clearly in love with him. Zach gives serious thought to the swooning option—Leonard is somewhere behind him, he’d catch a falling Zach, right?—but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to miss any of this. He turns his gaze to Chris instead.

Chris makes an almost balletic spin, finishes facing downstage once more. He shrugs out of his jacket, lets it flutter to the boards behind him. Draws a slow circle around a nipple with one fingertip, then looks straight at Zach and _winks_.

Zach swallows. His birthday present from his co-stars is a _striptease?_

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Zoe twinkles up at him. “I know, right?”

Kristin appears at his other side. “Be grateful I vetoed their original suggestion.”

Any urgency Zach might have felt to appease his curiosity on that front is promptly squelched by the sight of Chris Pine, his back to the audience, bending over as he pulls off his tailored white pants...

“Chris Pine,” Zoe says, sounding dazed. “Silver. Sparkly. G-string.”

All Zach can manage is a heartfelt _amen_.

***END***


End file.
